


On a Cold Night

by jadedwulf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:04:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedwulf/pseuds/jadedwulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a prompt: Arya and Gendry have taken to making out at night in order to keep warm. Arya doesn’t understand why her body gets all tense and why Gendry always makes them stop. Finally Gendry tells her what’s going on, and Arya decides she doesn’t want to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Cold Night

It started on a particularly cold night. Winter had been coming closer with each passing day, and their campfire provided little warmth. They had been sleeping next to each other the past few nights, bundled up in furs and protected from the cold. It wasn’t enough; they still shivered.

Then one night Arya was lying next to Gendry and saw how his teeth were gritted against the bitter chill. Without thinking, she reached forward and kissed him. Gendry pulled back in surprise, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I was just trying to keep you warm,” Arya said. “Did it work?”

Gendry simply nodded and took her mouth in his.

* * * * * * * *

It’s just to stay warm, Gendry told himself. It means nothing.

For the past fortnight they had been making out as soon as it grew dark, and each night was more passionate than the last. Theirs was no chaste kiss, but teeth and tongues and bodies pressed up against each other. That night, Arya had gone even further and sat straddling him, making small sounds of pleasure as Gendry sucked at her lips, her ear, her neck. He could feel his cock growing hard, as it did every night, and knew it was time to stop. 

Gendry pulled away, ignoring Arya’s whine of protest. “We should go to bed.”

“Why?” asked Arya, and there was genuine confusion in her voice. She still didn’t seem to understand the effect she had on him.

“Early day tomorrow,” Gendry mumbled, refusing to look at her. “We need our rest.”

Arya huffed and slid off him, but still remained pressed against him during the night for warmth. Gendry had trouble sleeping that night.

* * * * * * *

Arya found Gendry’s mouth waiting for her when she settled into their furs. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and Arya could no longer feel the cold. A tension that Arya couldn’t explain settled in her lower stomach, and the more she kissed him, the more she could feel heat bubbling over into her entire being.

Arya was pressing small kisses to Gendry’s clavicle when he stiffened and gripped her biceps. “We should stop,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Gendry was always the one who stopped them. Every night it was the same, and every night Arya was disappointed, though she couldn’t really explain why. She pretended not to hear him this time and nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

“Arya,” he warned.

Arya lifted her head to look Gendry in the eyes. “Why do you always want to stop?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

“It’s not that I want to, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she demanded. Gendry tightened his jaw. Stubborn bull. Arya punched him in the shoulder. “Just what?”

Gendry cursed and clutched his shoulder. “Just that common bastards don’t go around fucking ladies!”

Even by the soft glow of their campfire, Arya could see how rapidly his face flushed. Arya was sure she was just as red. Gendry sighed. “Like I said, we should stop.”

“I’m no lady,” Arya spat at him. “And I never said I wanted to stop neither.” She eyed his breeches and saw where his cock was straining against the fabric. Gendry made a move to hide it when he saw her looking, but Arya stopped him and rolled him onto his back. She kissed him then, long and hard, and though he fought her at first, Gendry soon yielded to her.

“Are you sure?” he asked when they broke apart.

Arya slid a leg over his torso. “Of course I am, stupid.”

Gendry’s hand slid under Arya’s shirt and stroked the underside of her breasts; when she didn’t protest, he slid it up further and pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Arya moaned and felt the heat build up inside her. She kissed Gendry with need – anything to relieve the tension.

Their hands were all over – touching, squeezing, removing clothing – and soon they were wearing nothing. When Gendry entered her, Arya only felt pain for a moment. She dug her nails into Gendry when she came, and rested afterward on his chest. 

Still breathing heavily, Gendry pressed sloppy kisses to her forehead. “How do you feel?” he asked.

Arya lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. “Warm,” she murmured, and Gendry smiled at her.


End file.
